


Flight Risk

by brideofquiet



Series: What's for Dessert? [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: (again), Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Holidays, Humor, M/M, Mistaken Identity (of inanimate objects), Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 03:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17521094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brideofquiet/pseuds/brideofquiet
Summary: Steve hadn’t been able to do anything to dissuade Bucky from arriving at the airport at 7 a.m. And he’d done a lot of wheedling over the past few days too—insisting there was no way security would take that long, baggage check would be fine, they had their boarding passes on their phones. Bucky had claimed that Steve had a more lackadaisical approach to airports because he’d only flown twice before. Classist asshole.





	Flight Risk

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this as a drabble on tumblr under a different title, but given that I am no longer active over there for reasons I'm sure you're all well-acquainted with, I figured it was time to finally cross-post this. Which is why you're getting Thanksgiving-themed fic in January. Merry holiday!

They’re three hours early for their 11 a.m. flight out of LaGuardia.

Steve hadn’t been able to do anything to dissuade Bucky from arriving at the airport at 7 a.m. And he’d done a lot of wheedling over the past few days too—insisting there was no way security would take that long, baggage check would be fine, they had their boarding passes on their phones. Bucky had claimed that Steve had a more lackadaisical approach to airports because he’d only flown twice before. Classist asshole.

It wasn’t that Steve didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving with Bucky’s whole extended family in Indiana. He just thought waking up before the sun rises should be illegal.

He had done everything he could think of to keep Bucky from dragging him out of bed at half past five to catch a cab at six. He’d cooked a nice dinner at home, plied Bucky with wine, curled his fingers in his collar and dragged him to bed where Steve rode him for what must have been hours. He thought that would be enough to wear Bucky out to the point of hitting snooze at  _ least _ once.

No damn dice. The alarm had shrieked at 5:30 and Bucky had hauled Steve out of bed not twenty seconds later.

For his effort, all Steve had gotten was a tender ass. Great planning on his part, since he’ll be sitting on it for most of the day. Here’s hoping they don’t hit any turbulence.

Their flight is so full that they hadn’t even been able to find seats at the gate. Instead, they’re sprawled on the floor, Bucky with his back to a wall and Steve draped over his lap. At least he can try to catch up on some sleep while they wait. Maybe later they’ll get some stupid expensive airport breakfast. Seems a hell of a lot to go through just to visit some relatives, but Steve is trying to put his own malformed opinions on extended family aside, given that he doesn’t have any. The whole orphan thing skews his perspective on this stuff.

Bucky’s fingers coast over Steve’s scalp absentmindedly, and Steve thinks it’s actually kind of nice to be expected somewhere. He and Bucky have been together for going on two years now. He’s… a part of the family, he guesses. Given that he’s still acclimating to having deep and profound feelings for another human being, the whole situation reads as kind of wild, but Bucky assures him it’s normal. Whatever that means. Steve’s learning a lot from the Barneses.

Eventually Steve gives up on sleep and flips over in Bucky’s lap, facing the gate instead of his boyfriend’s stomach. He cracks an eye open and glances up to see Bucky playing on his phone. The faint sounds of Candy Crush filter through the din of the terminal.

“I spy,” Steve starts, “with my little eye.”

Bucky snorts and smiles, leaning forward to pinch Steve’s nose. “Yeah? We playing ‘I spy’?”

“I  _ spy _ with my little  _ eye,” _ Steve repeats. He glances around the gate for anything worth spying. But not like, anything worth reporting to the TSA. Though he’d report it if he did. See something, say something or whatever. “Um, I spy something red.”

“Is it that girl’s sweater?”

“Dammit.”

“You gotta pick something less obvious. She’s sitting right there.”

“Maybe that was a warm-up. Maybe I went easy on you on purpose.”

“Oh yeah? Why would you do that?” Bucky smiles down at him, smug.

Steve pinches his thigh. “Because sometimes I worry about your vision.”

“Yeah, okay, love you too, asshole. I spy with my little eye something… oh, my God.” Bucky snorts and covers his mouth to muffle a bigger laugh, his face lit up with mirth. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” Steve sits up a little, looking around at the people to try to find what’s so funny.

“Well, I guess I spy something green. Like, bright green. And, um… just look for it. Jeez.”

Now Steve sits up properly, rubbing at his eyes till they focus for him. The problem with airports, Steve thinks, is that the people watching is never as good as you think it would be. Everyone’s just hanging out in casual clothes waiting for their flight, which doesn’t make for a whole lot of interesting stuff to pretend you’re not gawping at. There’s a kid chewing on a green teething toy, but that can’t be what Bucky’s looking at. A woman in a green coat—no. Can’t be the dude with the green sneakers, because sure, they’re bright, but they’re not something to laugh about unless Bucky’s sense of humor has suddenly gotten ten times worse. Which Steve wouldn’t really be surprised by, because the guy’s always been a cornball, but that would disappoint him deeply.

Then Steve spots it.

“Oh, my God,” he says before he can help himself.

A man about ten seats to their left has what, for all intents and purposes, is probably a charging hub. He’s got his phone, a tablet, and a laptop all plugged into it—so that’s like, definitely what it is. A fancy power strip! Probably comes in handy in places like an airport, where outlets are a limited resource.

The thing is...

The _ thing _ is, it looks like a lime green set of extra large anal beads. 

Steve doesn’t bother to hide his delighted squawk of laughter. Do product developers really just not have  _ any _ self-awareness these days? At least with the curling wand shaped like a sex toy, Steve could understand the purpose of its shape after Bucky had finally caved and let Steve curl his hair with it too. But surely there’s no kind of high speed charging advantage to having your power strip bubble out like that. But what does Steve know? He’s got an art degree.

“I assume you’re thinking what I’m thinking,” Bucky says.

“You know what? I’m starting to wonder if you’re some kind of magnet for sex toys in inappropriate places, Bucky. First it was my place of work, now it’s the airport—”

“Shh!” Bucky presses a hand over Steve’s mouth, but he’s laughing.

“What?” Steve mumbles, then pushes Bucky’s hand out of the way. “You telling me you’re not gonna steal that so you can put it in my ass on your grandma’s fold-out couch?”

_ “Steve, _ I swear to God.”

“I’m just saying, I don’t think we’ve ever gone five days without fucking, I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Excuse me for pre-planning.”

“I’m not—oh, my God—”

“Oh, right, you’re gonna put it up the turkey’s butt instead. High tech Thanksgiving for the future, interesting concept, I see.”  

“I’m leaving you here. You’re uninvited.”

“Yeah, yeah, go get us some breakfast, early bird.”

Bucky’s eyes are warm as the sunrise just spreading over the tarmac when he smacks a kiss to Steve’s cheek. He braves the holiday airport crowd to secure the both of them bagels and coffee. They eat sitting against the wall, Steve slumped against Bucky’s shoulder as is his preferred place to be in life. He’s got a good shoulder. Solid, dependable. One might dare say lovable, that shoulder.

“Oh,” Bucky says after a sip of coffee, “that guy says he bought that thing at Nordstrom.”

“You  _ asked?”  _ Steve sputters. “Buck, we have a whole box of shit at home, I was kidding.”

“I know.” Bucky winks at him. “But I was thinking, there are these woods behind my grandma’s house, and there’s this old tree house—”

“Bucky Barnes, you are—actually, you know what? I’d probably let you fuck me in a tree house if there’s not too many spiders. Guess we’ll see.”

As it turns out, Steve doesn’t mind spending half the day in an airport when it’s with Bucky. He even has a good time meeting all of Bucky’s cousins, and helping Bucky’s grandmother with the lemon meringue pie. It’s the best Thanksgiving he’s had in years.

And they do end up fucking in the tree house, after Bucky kills the spiders. Steve’s got a lot to be thankful for this year, but he’s pretty sure he’s most thankful for Bucky Barnes and his beautiful dick.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, I'm not really on tumblr anymore, but I _am_ having a fun over on [tweet time](https://twitter.com/bride_ofquiet) lately. You can also find me on [dreamwidth](https://brideofquiet.dreamwidth.org/), which I am still figuring out but feel good about.
> 
> Also also, if you ever have any prompts for this 'verse, I have historically been very open to them! For instance this fic was brought to you by a pal sending me a photo of the very same charging hub featured here, a link to which I will try to find later.


End file.
